


something happened to my heart

by better_times_are_coming



Series: things i never told you [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non AU, Sickfic, Sleepy Cuddles, idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 12:02:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19005415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/better_times_are_coming/pseuds/better_times_are_coming
Summary: It's alwaysmeisn't it, Cheol?





	something happened to my heart

_I miss you so much_

_Something must be wrong with me_

_Because I love you so much_

_Only one thing, only your heart_

_Can't you share it with me?_

_Can't you love me?_

_**(Something happened to my heart - A'ST1 feat T-Max)** _

 

__

Seungcheol never noticed when he came down with a fever.

Not like he didn’t know the symptoms.

His rhinitis got even worse at night, his feet got ice cold, his headache started to make it hard for him to focus on performing.

His eyes stung every time he watched the screen of his phone for more than three seconds.

His body got heavier, clumsier, _uncoordinated_.

Just enough for Soonyoung to keep giving him side glances as they practiced and for him to get a pat on the shoulder by Minghao, every time his friend went by.

Jisoo kept gently (because he was still _him_ ) shoving a bottle of warm tea his way too.

It’s like everyone knew he might be falling sick, but no one dared to point it out.

And Seungcheol knew this.

Because it wasn’t about not realizing what was going on, it was more about not wanting to admit it.

Maybe.

He didn’t like to be the team’s burden.

They worked as thirteen or they wouldn’t at all, and Seungcheol wasn’t about to let _anything_ happen to this team.

“Okay, let’s call it a night!” Someone said, with a decisive clap. It was most possibly Soonyoung, but not like Seungcheol cared either way.

He needed some sleep.

And he also needed to stop receiving those worried glances.

He turned down the invitations to get something to eat (it was two am, and for once he wanted to sleep), and tried not to sway as he made his way back to the dorms, joining a few other members in the company car.

*

Seungcheol often wondered what would happen when he got older.

He wanted to be with his members forever, but eventually they’d want to live alone.

Even if they stayed as Seventeen, the members might move away.

Maybe the reason he had been so taken aback with the change of dorms from one to two was that.

The reality was catching up with him and he wondered how much longer it’d be until the members would leave one by one.

It was _already_ quieter not to have an apartment with thirteen people but _six_.

He could faintly hear what seemed to be Wonwoo and Jisoo playing Wii on the living room, but he kept dozing off.

Usually he might have joined them, but he didn’t even have the energy to take a shower.

He didn’t even remember taking the elevator and making it to the apartment, but he must have done it.

Otherwise he wouldn’t be under the blankets at three am thinking about their military enlistment or if one of the members would ever choose him as godfather of their future babies or best man in their wedding.

He definitely had a fever.

Or at least it was starting to feel that way, not that he had properly checked with a thermometer.

He hadn’t even plugged his phone to charge, and that was usually the first thing he did as soon as he got home.

Must have been enough of a tell for him to notice he was acting weird.

He didn’t even properly register what was going on anymore, it was only him and his dark room, his not enough thick covers, and rich laughter coming from the living room.

*

“Cheol-ah.”

Seungcheol threw the blanket over his head, burying himself more in the pillow.

He didn’t want to get up. He could always be a little late to the company, no meetings today-

“Choi Seungcheol.”

Jeonghan.

That was Jeonghan’s voice.

Seungcheol didn’t move, suddenly wide awake. He hadn’t called Jeonghan, had he?

And Jeonghan was two floors away.

Was it morning already? Did he really sleep that much?

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, groggily, his throat scratchy as he tried to get the words out.

Why Jeonghan of all people?

If anything he expected Jisoo or maybe even Mingyu…

It would have made sense.

Same dorm.

Rooms away.

Walls were thin and-

“Wonwoo texted me. Said he noticed you were whining in your sleep when he went to the bathroom.”

And Jeonghan just came? Yoon Jeonghan? An actual _sloth_? He just got up and-  

Jeonghan reached out to throw the blanket off Seungcheol’s sleeping form, with an offended _yah!_

“Who do you take me for? Of course I’d come.”

Ah.

Must have said the last thing out loud.

Seungcheol didn’t have to whine about Jeonghan basically stripping the only source of heat off of him, because he finally started to realize what Jeonghan might have been doing here.

First of all, it was still dark out, although the lights were on.

Second of all, Jeonghan looked _wide awake_ , not like Wonwoo would have just texted him like a minute ago.  

And finally, there was a bowl of a steamy _something_ right in front of him.

He hadn’t smelled that one.

“Eat.”

Seungcheol pursed his lips, the headache was prominent as ever and he only wanted the lights to be _off_.

Truth was, Jeonghan confused him.

Lately, he got a little testy when Jeonghan didn’t reciprocate his affection, just because he still had that Japan incident in the back of his mind.

Why should he expect that _Jeonghan_ of all people would come?

It just didn’t make any sense.

“I don’t want it.” He said, already covering himself more, maybe come back to sleep.

He didn’t even remember having nightmares, but if Wonwoo got worried, it must have been something…

“Seungcheol. Eat.” Jeonghan said, voice a little firmer now. “We all noticed you were coming down with something, and Shua even told me he told you to go to the hospital when we were at practice, so eat the damn soup and have some medicine. I’m not saying this twice.”

“I said I don’t want it.” He whined, wishing he felt sleepy all over again, he didn’t have the energy to deal with this puzzling Jeonghan.

“Eat it.”

“No.”

Seungcheol was tempted to ask if Jeonghan had not only gotten up _but_ also made soup for him, but his stubbornness was winning.

And maybe he was cranky after Jeonghan had woken him up so suddenly, considering he was having a good night sleep.

Well, maybe not _good_ but sleep nonetheless.

Jeonghan took a deep breath, brows furrowing and Seungcheol knew it was one of his tells when he got mad.

He didn’t pull back.

If anything, maybe he wanted to provoke him a little.

Push past the boundary, just as he had done back in Japan, because that had brought him an actual _result_ , something clearer for once.

“The kids are worried about you.” Jeonghan said, voice softer now, and he defeatedly sat in one of the chairs, sighing as he did so.

 _The kids_ , not you, Seungcheol thought.

It was always about semantics with Jeonghan’s words.

Only one nice compliment would have him feeling like the luckiest person on earth and then _one_ ill-mannered comment had him back on the self loathing hole.

It was always black and white between them.

Jeonghan always wanted _this_ to be _gray_ , but Seungcheol only wanted _white_ or _black_.

Did that even make sense to anyone but him?

He just wanted to know where they stood after the Japan thing… he just wanted maybe a reassurance? That Jeonghan’s feelings were there, that something _had_ changed.

And for the good.

There was a small clink as Jeonghan left the bowl of steaming soup on his desk, he wasn’t making eye contact with him and for the first time, Seungcheol actually made an effort and struggled into a sitting position, his arms and legs screaming with the effort.

“Where’s everyone?”

“Mm?”

“Where’s everyone?” Seungcheol repeated, making sure to sound less nasal this time.

Jeonghan gave him a questioning look again, as if Seungcheol hadn’t noticed it was _dark_ out, so the other members were probably asleep.

“There’s silence, and there’s never silence unless-”

“Unless it’s five am and we don’t have practice until nine.” Jeonghan explained.

Oh.

Right, he must have forgotten.

He reached out to his eyes, trying to rub the sleep from them, and just now he noticed how _warm_ his face was.

He didn’t even think he’d be able to get up and go to the bathroom, if he wanted to.

His fringe was sticking to his forehead in the most unattractive way, and Jeonghan was just within reach, looking so put together for a person who got up at five am to make _soup_.

Suddenly Seungcheol wondered what might happen if he just told Jeonghan to leave.

Just that.

“Why did _you_ come?” Seungcheol asked instead, staring into his friends’ eyes.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Jeonghan took another one of those deep breaths, and when Seungcheol thought he’d get up and _leave,_  he just walked towards the light switch and turned it off.

Seungcheol’s heart skipped a beat.

There was the familiar sound of rustling and under the city lights that peeked through his half open curtain, Jeonghan took off his hoodie and pushed gently at Seungcheol until he got the clue and made room for him in the bed.

It was familiar, the way that Seungcheol welcomed him in.

No matter the circumstances, Jeonghan and every member would always be his family, no matter what, even if everything went to shit, he still had this, he’d always have them or at least that was what he wanted to believe, otherwise he’d have nothing, nothing at all and that-

“Shh,” Jeonghan said gently, the hushed words tickling Seungcheol’s scalp. Jeonghan caressed the dampness just under his eye bags and just _then_ Seungcheol blinked away the tears he hadn’t noticed he had shed.

Being sick must really have made him emotional.

[Or maybe it was just Jeonghan?]

“Of course I’d come.” Jeonghan mumbled, after Seungcheol had calmed down.

He had completely ignored the question.

And Seungcheol wanted to feel hurt, but instead he just tangled their legs together and hid in the crook of Jeonghan’s neck, inhaling his scent.

 _of course i’d come_ might be as good as he can get now.

*

“Why won’t you go to the hospital?”

He didn’t fall asleep.

He thought he might have, but he didn’t.

He was tired and with Jeonghan now pressed against him, he felt slightly warmer.

Better.

Lighter.

[Happier?]

“I don’t want to.”

Jeonghan stopped his caress on Seungcheol’s slightly damp hair and sighed.

“Yes, but _why_?”

_I don’t want the members to worry, I don’t want to affect the team, I can’t affect the team._

“What’s the difference? I don’t want to and that’s it.”

“Aish,” Jeonghan’s hand pulled at Seungcheol’s earlobe and he let out yelp, pushing against Jeonghan’s chest.

“How can you do this to me?” Seungcheol whined. “I’m sick!”

“Oh, so you’re finally admitting you are.” Jeonghan said, with a small pleased smile.

Damn him.

“Then why didn’t you take the medicine?”

Seungcheol sighed.

He didn’t even know _why_ himself, so he couldn’t possibly reply to Jeonghan.  

“You make terrible soup.” He said instead, just because he wanted to tease Jeonghan about something.

Jeonghan was almost perfect in every way, and when he wasn’t, he tried hard and he always managed to ace everything anyway.

It made Seungcheol a little jealous.

Which meant that Jeonghan _wasn’t_ a bad cook, just liked to pretend that he was, just in case he’d fuck up someday.

He wasn’t that confident, but he could hide it very well.

It was one of the few secrets that Seungcheol knew about Jeonghan.

“It’s still better than yours.” Jeonghan jabbed back and Seungcheol gave up trying to throw him off of the bed, wrapping his arms around his own stomach instead.

He was hungry.

He should have eaten the damn soup before.

“ _And_ I didn’t make it. Mingyu did,” he explained and Seungcheol tried not to roll his eyes, why didn’t he say so? He would have eaten it right away!

“Why didn’t he bring it then?” Seungcheol said, with a small pout and Jeonghan sighed, slowly shuffling closed until he had Seungcheol against his chest again.

“Because he made it yesterday and I reheated it today, dummy.”

Seungcheol closed his eyes.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

He should get some sleep.

His limbs were stiff and his mind was all foggy, and he was sweating.

He was glad that at least Jeonghan didn’t comment on the last thing, because he was always a bit self conscious when it came to his image.

“Why did Wonwoo text _you_ then?” Seungcheol insisted a little further.

He just… he wanted to know.

It was like every time he tried to get rid of his insecurities, they’d just go back to haunt him even more, and he really did believe Jeonghan when he said that he loved him, well, when he almost did.

He might have a special place in Jeonghan’s heart.

Maybe as more than friends.

And _maybe_ the rest of the members knew?

Seungcheol knew he was transparent.

He knew.

It was so weird to think that if he needed comfort, someone would send _Jeonghan_.

Jeonghan the so called “mom” of the group.

Jeonghan and his warm hugs.

Jeonghan and his shy laugh.

Jeonghan and…

Sometimes Seungcheol forgot that Jeonghan kissed him.

Sometimes he would be practicing and he’d remember just in the middle of a dance and he’d mess up his footing.

Sometimes they would be on a broadcast and his cheeks would turn red despite himself.

Sometimes Seungcheol would like for Jeonghan to do it again.

Only Jeonghan though, not him, because he didn’t want Jeonghan to snap at him and call him childish.

Although Seungcheol might want to push his buttons.

Just a little.

What would happen then?

He wondered if Jeonghan felt this unease when they were around. Was Seungcheol the only one expecting affection of him?

Did Jeonghan sometimes want Seungcheol to hug him, kiss him, sleep with him?

“I don’t know why he texted me.” Jeonghan said, out of the blue and Seungcheol reflexively tightened the hold he had on Jeonghan’s waist.

He had almost forgotten he had asked.

“It must be…” He ventured and for a second Seungcheol wished they were staring at each other, instead of him hiding under the covers, his lips just inches away from Jeonghan’s collarbone. “It must be because it’s always _me_ , isn’t it, Cheol-ah?”

Jeonghan’s hand traveled from his lower back to his forehead, placing it on the warm surface.

 _it’s always_ me.

It was always him.

It _was_ , but Seungcheol wasn’t about to admit that.

Not when he was this vulnerable, so instead he only hissed, weakly placing his hands on Jeonghan’s chest, the sudden cold unwelcome against his burning skin.

Even though he shied away from the contact, Jeonghan’s hand stayed there, checking his temperature, or maybe just wanting to piss him off.

Seungcheol wasn’t sure.

It wasn’t fair for Jeonghan to sound so smug about it all. It wasn’t fair for Jeonghan to _know_ it yet do nothing about it.

_it’s always me, it’s always me, it’s always me_

Yeah, and so what?

If no one knew it it was okay, but if _Jeonghan_ knew it and he just stood there, doing nothing about Seungcheol’s feelings then-

“It’s okay if it’s _us_. That’s why I came.” Jeonghan whispered, pressing a kiss on Seungcheol’s hair and then pulling him a bit closer in their embrace.

Us.

_Us._

Did this mean that Jeonghan too? That he too felt like-

He blinked away his sleep, his breath getting steadier by the minute.

He wasn’t sure he was ready (or had the energy) to deal with all the implications of that phrase, so he let himself be pulled into the hug and dozed off.

His heart at ease one more time.

*

“Tell me something.“

Morning would come, any second now.

Jeonghan’s hand slowly traveled downwards, sliding from Seungcheol’s arm to hip, then gently gripping his thigh.

Seungcheol’s breath picked up speed again.

They had been caressing each other skin all night.

Exploring, gentle, innocent touches, Seungcheol’s hand was under Jeonghan’s shirt, thumb pressing against his rib cage.

(Just one time, his hand accidentally slip a little under Jeonghan’s waistband, and his friend had let out a small unrestrained sound).

Was this a fever dream?

It had to be.

Everything that had happened since Jeonghan stepped into his room had been a fever dream.

Maybe when they were in Japan, they could have pretended like nothing happened.

That kiss maybe didn’t happen.

But now?

_Here?_

In this dorm. In Seoul.

While they were being _real_ people.

“How’s the knee?”

Seungcheol luckily hadn’t moved for a while, and he tried to even his breathing.

Maybe if he didn’t say anything, this could just stay the way it was.

He wanted to.

He wanted Jeonghan here every night, not to have sex with him or anything, just to have him here.

All to himself.

For five, ten, fifteen minutes.

A whole hour or a whole night.

A whole weekend, just like that ski trip.

If he didn’t break this moment, he could maybe have Jeonghan forever.

“Seungcheol.” He insisted.

Jeonghan’s hand went from his thigh to his knee and gripped gently.

It was a reminder, a warning and a worry at the same time.

But Seungcheol didn’t respond and pretended to be asleep instead.

*

Hot.

There was heat on the back of his knees, dampness on his hair, and his shirt was uncomfortably sticking to his back.

Uncomfortable.

Heat all over.

Limbs tangled together.

Warm breath just above his ear.

Stuffy air.

Daylight.

[Better, lighter, happier]

It hadn’t been that long from the last time he slept with Jeonghan, but somehow it felt like ages.

“Your fever hasn’t broken yet.” Jeonghan mumbled, disentangling himself from the tight grip they had on each other. “I’ll go get manager-hyung.” He said, but Seungcheol didn’t budge, just stayed where he was, arms wrapped around Jeonghan’s waist.

He just wanted to stay here a little longer.

Just a little bit more.

“I’ll be back soon.” He assured gently, squeezing one of Seungcheol’s hands and managing to set one foot on the floor.

Seungcheol got out of his sleepy daze.

He didn’t think he was ready to let Jeonghan go now.

Not now.

When would he have another opportunity like this?

 _If_ he had one at all.

Jeonghan was already getting up, but Seungcheol didn’t let go of his wrist and with his other hand, he reached out for Jeonghan’s neck.

“Wait, Jeonghan-ah.”

He gave him three full seconds, but Jeonghan didn’t back down.

His breath _hitched,_  yes, his cheeks _reddened_ , that too.

But he didn’t pull back.

So Seungcheol pulled him in.

It felt _nothing_ like the last time.

Last time had been a rush, it was gone in the blink of an eye, but now…

Now Jeonghan’s teeth clinked against his own, his soft lips moving tentatively.

They were kissing.

Properly this time.

Seungcheol’s lips were dry against Jeonghan’s, and he registered both of their morning breaths, but he didn’t care, he didn’t think he had ever felt something this good.

He gently nipped on Jeonghan’s lower lip, relishing on the whimper he got on response.

He was pretty sure he wasn’t a good kisser, they took a moment to find a rhythm, but Seungcheol didn’t pull apart, just kept exploring every inch of Jeonghan’s mouth, to commit to memory in case he’d never have a taste of him again.

As soon as Jeonghan’s lips parted a little to get some air, Seungcheol tilted his head the opposite way, the hand that was on the back of Jeonghan’s neck, pressing him back into the bed.

One of Jeonghan’s hand found purchase on his shoulder and they both parted to let out a moan, taken aback by the sudden intimacy.

The whirlpool of emotions.

The heat.

The want.

Jeonghan’s eyes were glassy when he pulled back, breath heavy and lips kiss bitten.

God, he looked beautiful.

Seungcheol thought he might pass out from the lack of air.

“I have to-” Jeonghan started hurriedly, pointing at the door, but he didn’t move, one knee planted firmly on the bed.

“Wait, wait, _wait_ ,” Seungcheol begged in a rush, chasing Jeonghan’s lips. “Please,” he said breathlessly. “Just one more time.”

He could actually see Jeonghan’s pupils dilating, but he didn’t have time to dwell on that.

“Just one…” He whispered, his words dying on the back of his throat when Jeonghan pressed his lips against his own again.

This Jeonghan, Seungcheol decided, must be a figment of his imagination.

There was just no other way.

[The butterflies are _real_ ]

The love songs were _right_.

*

Fingers on his hair.

Cold air against his nose.

His lips were tingling.

Was someone humming?

Seungcheol didn’t dare to open his eyes.

Jeonghan was still here.

He was still sick and feverish and in Seoul, and an idol, but Jeonghan was here.

Jeonghan hadn’t left.

Jeonghan had kissed him.

“Sleepyhead.” Jeonghan whispered, playing with the loose strands of Seungcheol’s hair.

He only cuddled closer.

He had no idea what time it was and he was hungry, but at least he wasn’t as tired and as worried as he had been before.

At least Jeonghan was here.

The members were here.

“Let us take care of you too, Cheol.” Jeonghan whispered, leaning down and pressing an absent kiss, right on the bridge of his nose.

The first tendrils of sleep started to cloud his mind _again_ and Seungcheol blinked, willing himself to stay awake.

Jeonghan knew he _couldn’t_ let them do that, he was the leader for a reason, he had committed to the cause, he had…

He shouldn’t _let_ the other members do that for him. Although sometimes he wanted to…

“Go back to sleep.” He whispered, and then, as if an afterthought. “I’ll stay.”

Seungcheol could only nod.


End file.
